


Stars

by The3rdTrumpeteer



Series: Refuge and Remedies [3]
Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Angst, Brothers, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jack Needs a Hug, The Refuge, crutchie's 11, friends protecting each other, jack's maybe 12 in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 06:28:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14372889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The3rdTrumpeteer/pseuds/The3rdTrumpeteer
Summary: A few years before the strike, a twelve-year-old Jack Kelly manages to escape from the Refuge for the second time. He's hurt and afraid. Good thing he has Crutchie to take care of him.





	Stars

The room in the basement of the Refuge was small, dark, and utterly suffocating. Over the past few weeks, Jack had become painfully familiar with every crack in the walls and patches of dirt and...well, he didn’t want think about the other stains that covered the floor. He only knew that he wasn’t the first kid to be thrown into this room, struggling and screaming, and he certainly wasn’t going to be the last.

They had gotten him one night, on the grounds of the Refuge, no less! Specs had told him it would happen, but Jack didn’t listen. Those other kids needed clothing, food, blankets...Jack couldn’t just ignore them. Not when he had been one of them.

And then he had gotten himself arrested for the second time in two years. The guards had ambushed him at the bottom of the fire escape. Jack fought back, of course, but there was only so much one twelve-year-old boy could do against three grown men. One managed to strike him in the head with a baton, and it was over. He didn’t remember much after that, but he did remember being dragged into the Refuge, barely conscious, down a long hallway and through a door. Jack recognized the desk, large and wooden. The chairs, much nicer than any others in the place. And the man standing in front of him, his lips curled into a sneer and an evil gleam in his eyes.

“Welcome back, Kelly,” Warden Snyder said. Then Jack had seen the man’s flying toward him, a heavy metal ring on his middle finger, and the next thing he knew, he was waking up in the little room, in pain and unsure of what was to come. The first time he had been arrested, he had been put up in one of the bunkrooms upstairs. It had been uncomfortable, but at least there was a window and other boys to talk to when the guards left for the night and everyone could relax just a little. Down here, in the room, there was only darkness and the sound of Jack’s own breathing. Until the door flew open at any time of...day? Night? and The Spider himself strode into the room with a belt, or a whip, or sometimes just his fists. And then there was only the sound of Jack’s screams.

The night Jack escaped was frigid but clear, the stars shining bright in the sky, the moon full enough that it lit Jack’s way as he sprinted down side streets and alleyways, ignoring the way his bare feet stung every time they hit the ground. He was pretty sure his arm was broken, but at least it was numb now, instead of the ache that had permeated his mind for so many days and made it hard to concentrate on anything besides how much it hurt.

Jack painstakingly made his way toward the lodging house, so far (even farther, it seemed, when he was hurt) from the Refuge. He was still in shock, almost unable to believe that he had actually managed to get away. This time, he had been sure he would die under Snyder’s hand. But then a careless guard that brought him a stale piece of bread had neglected to lock the door. He must have new, Jack decided, or perhaps just thought that the lock wasn’t needed when the only occupant of the room was curled on his side in the corner, his eyes squeezed shut and his breathing shallow.

Whatever the case, Jack was out, and that was all that mattered. There were splinters in his feet from the basement’s rough wooden stairs, and blood still streamed from his arms where he had frantically punched out a window on the first floor because the heavy wooden doors were padlocked.

But he was free. Hopefully forever. Jack honestly wasn’t sure he would be able to survive another run-in with Snyder. After the last “session”...Jack shuddered and shook his head, trying to get rid of the thoughts before they threatened to overwhelm him. He just had to get back to the lodging house, and then he could break down in the safety of his bed, where no one would bother him.

It seemed like forever before Jack finally saw the looming shadow of the lodging house in the distance. He hurried up to the place as fast as his damaged feet would allow, hoping against hope that the front door was unlocked; sometimes the older newsies would leave it so if they knew someone was going to be back after curfew.

But no one knew Jack was coming back. And the door was locked.

Jack didn’t even bother knocking. No one was going to answer - that was one of the few rules the newsies actually followed. Also, he wasn’t even sure anyone would hear them if they were all upstairs.

But Jack still needed to get off the streets. Snyder was going to be looking for him, if he wasn’t already, and Jack was deathly afraid that any minute, he would see a bull or someone worse round the corner. They would drag him back to the Refuge and-

Shit. No. He needed to get somewhere safe.

Jack looked around, and his gaze landed on the fire escape that wound up the side of the lodging house. Perfect. If he could just get up to the roof, maybe he could sleep there for the night and blend into the morning rush in a few hours. Wash up a little. Sell some papers. Feel normal again.

Pulling the ladder down proved more difficult than Jack had expected, especially since his ribs shifted painfully with every movement and he had to stop every few minutes to catch his breath, but finally he succeeded and was soon slowly climbing, until four stories later he was lying on the roof, trying not to pass out from the stress and slowly fading adrenaline.

After a few minutes, Jack felt well enough to sit up. He wanted to pull his knees up to his chest, but his ribs wouldn’t allow it, so he settled for sitting with them crossed, his hands resting in his lap.

He was alone. He was safe.

No, not safe. Just a little further away from danger.

Jack felt tears gather in his eyes, but he stubbornly wiped them away. Snyder had told him for weeks that he was weak, and Jack refused to prove him right. So he leaned back and gazed up at the sky, amazed at what he saw. There were so many more stars visible from the roof than the streets; it felt like he had discovered an entire new world. Maybe he could just stay up here forever, high above the stinking streets of New York, where no one could hurt him again.

But then the ladder shook, and Jack jumped. He ignored the various aches and pains and scooted backwards away from the ladder as far as he could. Someone was coming up. Had Snyder found him already? Jack could only curl in on himself, close his eyes, and wait. Maybe if he made himself small enough, whoever was coming wouldn’t even see him. Maybe-

“Jack?” The voice was soft and high and definitely not an adult. Jack opened his eyes and was more than surprised to see Crutchie hauling himself onto the roof with strength beyond his eleven years. He dragged his crutch up next, then carefully lifted his bad leg onto the roof with the rest of him, then slowly turned to where Jack was still curled up a few feet away. “I...I didn’t know when you was gettin’ back. I heard someone goin’ up the fire escape and thought I’d check it out. Why’s you up here?”

“I, uh...the front door was locked.” It wasn’t much in the way of explanation, but Crutchie just nodded. He scooted a little closer to Jack, who willed himself not to move away. He knew Crutchie wasn’t going to hurt him. Crutchie would never hurt anyone.

“So...they let you out?” Crutchie asked.

“Um…not exactly.”

“You escaped? Jack, you know that’s why Snyder came after you the last time. If he gets ya again-”

“What was I supposed to do, Crutchie?” Jack hadn’t meant to shout, but he couldn’t help it. Crutchie flinched a little, but said nothing. “It...it was worse this time. I knew it would be. The Spider was mad at me for gettin’ away the first time. He...he did things, Crutchie. I...I had to get out.”

This time when Jack felt the tears, he didn’t try to stop them, and they streamed down his dirty cheeks, carving paths through the grime and blood. Crutchie made a small sound, and suddenly he was right next to Jack, wrapping his thin arms around him in a gentle embrace. Jack didn’t even try to pull away. Something in his mind insisted that Crutchie was only trying to comfort him, and he believed it. So he returned the hug and cried into Crutchie’s shoulder for what felt like ages. When he finally pulled away, Crutchie’s shirt was wet, but he was smiling softly at Jack.

“Do you feel any better?” 

Jack nodded. “A little. Sorry ‘bout your shirt.”

“It’s fine, Jack.” Crutchie put his hand over Jack’s. “Do you...do you wanna talk about it any?”

“...not tonight. It’s just...hard, y’know?” 

“Yeah.” Crutchie held Jack’s hand just a little tighter. “I’m here when ya do. We’s brothers, Jack...we gotta take care of each other.”

Jack wrapped his arm around Crutchie’s shoulders and pulled him close. “We’ll always be brothers, Crutchie. And if I got anythin’ to say about it, you’s never gonna see the inside of that rotten place. I’ll protect ya.”

“Yeah,” Crutchie said again, and he leaned against Jack. And they sat there together, staring at the stars until sunrise.


End file.
